


Of Lobsters and Men

by chuusei_teki_na_koe



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Akira Kurusu is an Anarchist, But He Fucks Like a Fascist, Crack, Double Penetration in One Hole, Goro Akechi Loves Lobster Daddy, Horrible Political Humor, Lobster, M/M, Object Insertion, Political Indoctrination Through Anal Sex, Rough Oral Sex, Sorry Not Sorry, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-30
Updated: 2019-04-30
Packaged: 2020-02-10 06:31:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18654865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chuusei_teki_na_koe/pseuds/chuusei_teki_na_koe
Summary: What is man, but a large, shell-less lobster? All lobsters are not created equal; in fact, some lobsters are definitively superior by their very nature.~three perspectives on lobsters, with commentary~





	Of Lobsters and Men

**Author's Note:**

> Note: Inspired by this piece of fanart: https://twitter.com/A_nishizono/status/1121760347377954816?s=19 
> 
> And by a certain lobster daddy.

 

Getting Akechi to come over to Yusuke's studio was surprisingly easy.

“I think a friend of mine has some information about the Phantom Thieves,” Akira told him over the phone. “But it'll be easier to get it out of him in person. You should come over to his place this weekend.”

“Oh! You'd be willing to share information with me?” Akechi's voice on the other end was sunny. “I'm so glad! But I'm not sure I can repay the favor to you.”

“Oh, I think I know a way you can repay us...”

x x x

Of course, that was all bullshit for the sake of getting Akechi down to Yusuke's studio. When Akechi knocked on the door, Akira was sitting on the floor, looking through some of Yusuke's artbooks, while Yusuke was setting up his canvas. The room was fairly barren of normal furnishings, but was strewn with art supplies and what looked like tools or something. There was a pile of hammers and screwdrivers and things that Yusuke said he'd been using for some still life earlier.

Akira got up and went to the door to let Akechi in.

“Haven't I met you before?” Akechi said, tilting his head with a look at Yusuke.

“Briefly,” Yusuke replied. “I hope you don't mind my requesting this, given that we're barely even acquainted.”

“Oh, no, I'm very glad that you've...wait, requesting...?” As Akechi spoke, Yusuke turned around to go to a bucket of water in the corner of his room, pulled out a somehow still-alive lobster, and thrust it into Akechi's arms.

“You should watch out for the pincers,” Yusuke said helpfully.

Akechi stared down at the lobster in his grasp.

“If you could sit down over there,” Yusuke said, gesturing to the floor space where Akira had been sitting earlier. “And hold the lobster as if you were the Mother Mary cradling the baby Jesus.”

Akechi just sort of stood there, staring, and Akira used his state of shock to gently take him by the shoulders and guide him over to the ground, pushing him down to sit, then arranging the lobster in his arms.

“That's perfect, Akira! I love it!” Yusuke said, adjusting the position of his canvas. He had some scratch sheets clipped over it for preliminary sketches, and a pencil behind his ear.

Akira stood up and took a good look at Akechi, who seemed like he still had no idea what was going on. “You know,” he said, completely deadpan, “those sorts of religious paintings always have a lot of drapery, right? So what if we tugged off his shirt and blazer partway so it's like hanging down off his shoulders? It'd get that aesthetic.”

“Yes!” Yusuke pointed his brush at Akira. “Fantastic idea.”

So Akira plucked the lobster out of Akechi's arms and then started unbuttoning his blazer.

His blazer was undone before Akechi finally gathered himself enough presence of mind to do something about this. “H-hold on, there...” he said, pushing Akira's hands away. “I didn't agree to—”

“You wanted to repay the favor, right?” Akira said smoothly. “It's just a little modelling. Yusuke would be very grateful if you would. Right, Yusuke?”

“Very much so,” Yusuke nodded. “I'm very obliged to have such a beautiful model.”

Yusuke probably thought he was just making a statement of fact, but the compliment seemed to work on Akechi, who blushed slightly, and lowered his hands. “All right, then...”

So Akira went to work loosening Akechi's tie and undoing his buttons, starting from the collar. Of course, on the way, his hands _accidentally_ brushed Akechi's neck and chest a little, and he was perhaps making a little more eye contact than was strictly necessary.

Akira saw Akechi swallow, and grinned.

Akira tugged Akechi's shirt and blazer down off his shoulders, palms brushing over Akechi's nipples as he went. Akechi twitched. Then he picked up the lobster again and placed it in Akechi's arms, arranging his hands over it just so, fingers sliding over the leather of Akechi's gloves. He pulled each one off slowly, placing them carefully aside, and returned to brush Akechi's skin again. Akechi was looking at his hands the whole time.

Akira stood again and got out of the way.

They were silent for a while as Yusuke sketched, hmming and looking between Akechi and his easel. He tossed aside a couple sheets of paper with some gestures on them, then looked back at Akechi. “Something's missing. There should be more...expression. More... _passion._ Lobster red is passionate red, after all!”

“I might be able to help with that,” Akira said, glasses flashing as he pushed them up with a finger. He circled around behind Akechi, then sat down behind him cross-legged. “Come on, sit in my lap.” He patted his thigh.

“Umm...”Akechi twisted around to look at him, and his moment of inattention cost him, as the lobster got a good snap on his finger. “Ow!”

Akira did not waste this opportunity. He scooched forward so that his legs were spread right around Akechi's ass and reached around to grab Akechi's bleeding index finger, bringing it back to pop it in his mouth and suck.

Akechi gasped, and Akira took another two fingers in his mouth for good measure, sliding his tongue up and down each digit just as a little _advertisement_ of what he could do.

“Oh! That's much better!” Yusuke started scribbling furiously at the paper.

By the time Yusuke had moved on to sketching on the canvas, Akira had his left hand plucking Akechi's nipple while his right was dipping into Akechi's mouth. Akechi was shuddering a little under his touch, leaning back just a bit, his heartbeat rapid under Akira's hand.

When his left hand wandered down to Akechi's crotch, though, Akechi jumped and scooched forward and out of his grasp, clinging to his lobster.

“I-I believe the focal point of this piece was supposed to be the lobster!” He babbled.

“I would appreciate it if you stayed still,” Yusuke said with a frown.

Akechi obediently returned to his previous position, but now it seemed he'd gathered enough brain cells to talk. Or. Sort of. “L-lobsters are amazing creatures, you know. They can even regenerate limbs...”

“Oh really?” Akira slid a hand up Akechi's thigh, just letting it sit there. “Tell me more about lobsters.”

“A-and...uh...you know, well...there's been some interesting science about...about...” This close, Akira could hear Akechi swallow. “How...higher levels of seratonin...contribute to lobster dominance...”

“Mmm-hmm.” Akira's hand just rubbed up and down Akechi's thigh, slowly.

Akechi took a breath and gathered himself a little. “And there's reason to believe that humans might function similarly. In regards to dominance.”

“Do you consider yourself a _dominant_ person,” Akira said, leaning in close enough that he knew his breath would tickle Akechi's ear, “Goro?”

Akechi was silent for a good ten seconds as a full-body shudder ran through him. But when he opened his mouth, he sounded quite calm and collected, considering. “Aha-ha, I'm not sure I would word it that way. But when you think about human social hierarchies, yes, I would say I'm higher rather than lower.”

There was an edge of something a little different there, his tone a little sharper than usual. It intrigued Akira. Well, Akechi intrigued him generally. That was basically why he'd arranged this whole affair.

“You think you're higher in the social hierarchy? Why?”

Akechi laughed, and now, for some reason, it sounded particularly fake. “Well, I don't think I need to explain it, do I? Some people are just meant for success in life. Some people are just meant to rise above the crowd.”

“So basically, you think you're better than everyone else,” Akira said, tone teasing, hand sliding to the inside of Akechi's thigh, just barely avoiding his dick.

“Oh, I wouldn't put it that way...”

“So in your little hierarchy, who's on top?” Akira pressed, his tone less teasing, now.

“It's not _my_ hierarchy. That's just the way it is, Kurusu. The people on top do what they want, and either you rise, or you don't.”

That edge again. He sounded just a touch less pleasant than usual.

“That sounds a little bit fascist,” Akira said, fingers digging into Akechi's leg just a little.

“It's just reality. Not everyone can be a winner. We all have different drives in competence hierarchies. Some have the need for achievement, some have the need for power—”

“And some have the need for intimacy,” Akira cut him off there. “I consider myself one of the latter. And I'm also a supporter of freedom and personal autonomy over hierarchies of power. So I'll ask you now: would you like me to touch your dick, Akechi?”

“Ah...” Akechi's brain seemed to basically short out.

Akira leaned forward to prop his chin up on Akechi's shoulder and looked down. “Hmm. You're hard.” He turned his face and smiled into Akechi's neck. “Or do you prefer the forceful approach? Since you're so into _dominance hierarchies._ ”

“I didn't mean it like...” Akechi said, half a moan. He'd basically dropped the lobster and it was swiftly wiggling away across the floor.

“Do you think you're above me?” Akira whispered into his ear. “Or do you want to be below me?”

Akechi collapsed against Akira's chest, turning his head toward Akira and meeting his lips.

It wasn't until he had Akechi's shirt off, his pants open and his dick in hand that he remembered Yusuke was there.

“Oh, uh...” chin over Akechi's shoulder, he looked over to see Yusuke standing there, brush dangling from his hand, dripping red paint onto the floor as he stared at the two of them, flushed and hard in his pants.

“The lobster is getting away...” Yusuke muttered absently.

“Come over here,” Akira beckoned with his free hand, and Yusuke came like a puppet drawn on a string.

“Is it all right if he joins?” Akira asked Akechi, who nodded silently. Akira told Yusuke to undo his pants, and brought Akechi to his knees, grabbing him by the hair and pushing him toward Yusuke's dick. “Is this okay?” He murmured in Akechi's ear.

Suddenly, Akechi's face twisted in a scowl. “Stop fucking _asking_ me. Just do it.” Then he froze as if he realized he'd let something slip.

“All right,” Akira grinned. “You want fascism, I'll give you fascism.” And he shoved Akechi's mouth forward onto Yusuke's cock, making him take it all the way to the hilt.

Yusuke was gentle, hips only rocking back and forth with his hands over Akira's on Akechi's head—but Akira wasn't. He held Akechi's head in an iron grip as he gagged and choked, yanking his head back only when he so chose it, so Akechi could gasp for air.

“How's that, top lobster?” Akira knelt behind him, hands tangled in his hair. “How are your seratonin levels right now?”

“Just shut up and fuck me,” Akechi wheezed after he'd caught his breath.

Akira's eyes scanned the studio and lighted on something intriguing. “Oh, I think I have a better idea.” He got up and went to the pile of tools left in one corner of the apartment and picked up two of them, then returned to his spot to place them down on the ground, then yanked Akechi's pants down to his knees.

Akechi eyed the two implements. “What are you—”

“No freedom of speech in fascism,” Akira interrupted him, then pulled his arms behind his back to tie them with his own shirt. “Time to impose a gag order. Yusuke.”

Yusuke slid his cock back between Akechi's lips with a look of relief, taking it slow this time, petting Akechi's hair. “You're far more beautiful than a lobster,” he murmured.

Akira popped a lubricated condom out of his pocket and slid it over the handle of the hammer in hand, first, then pressed the wooden shaft against Akechi's asshole. Akechi twitched, moaning around Yusuke's cock as Akira slowly pressed it in, seeing how deep he could go. Akechi's ass swallowed it up with surprising ease.

“You've done this before, huh?” Akira said, on his knees behind Akechi as he leisurely fucked him with the handle of the hammer. “So that whole blushing virgin thing was an act?”

Akechi couldn't respond with anything but moans, though, rocking back into the wooden handle as Akira fucked him deliberately slow. “You want more, Oliver Twist?” Akira purred. “I guess it's time for some trickle-down economics.”

Akira pulled out another lubricated condom and slid it over the handle of the second tool—a sickle. When he nudged it against Akechi's asshole, pressing the tip of the handle in beside the other one, Akechi let out a yelp of surprise but didn't resist as Akira slowly pushed it in, wiggling a little bit as he went, and when it finally went as deep as it would go, Akechi's whole body shook and he moaned around Yusuke's cock, shooting his load straight down to splatter on the floor below him.

“...Or maybe this is more like seizing the means of production? Am I exploiting the production of jizz? Or is this a cooperative venture? But symbolically, the tools...” Akira muttered to himself, tilting his head thoughtfully with one hand on his chin as he continued to fuck Akechi absently with the handles of both tools. “I think I'm mixing my metaphors,” he concluded, before pulling both the handles out of Akechi's ass with a loose _shlop._

Meanhile, Yusuke's face tightened as he came in Akechi's mouth, and Akechi, that champ, swallowed every last drop without hesitation.

Once Akechi had caught his breath, Akira asked him, “So, what did the cock of the workers feel like?”

“Your dirty talk is terrible,” Akechi said, exasperation written all over his face.

“I thought it was rather interesting,” Yusuke said as he did up his pants, kneeling down beside the two of them. “I only ever thought of lobsters in the aesthetic sense, so the metaphorical angle was quite fresh to me.”

“Nah,” Akira shook his head, sitting back down on the floor on his butt. “Lobsters are tasty. That's what matters most. Speaking of which...” His gaze scanned the room to discover the lobster had wriggled off toward one of Yusuke's paint cans, knocked it over, and sprayed itself in white paint.

“Oh! That's it!” Yusuke leaped to his feet, approaching the lobster. “The contrast of white splatter over the red flesh of the lobster—”

“You heard the man, Akechi,” Akira said, getting to his feet and undoing his straining pants, looking down at where Akechi knelt on the floor, arms still tied, hair a mess and face flushed bright red, mostly naked with his pants around his ankles. “White splattered on red.” He started stroking his cock, pointing it down at Akechi's face. He was so close, he'd be done in less than a minute. “Yusuke, how about you call this one _peaceful revolution._ ”

“White and red is such a beautiful color scheme,” Yusuke murmured as he set aside the wet, half-painted canvas, and put up another sheet of draft paper with clips. “Passion and purity.”

As Akira held Akechi by the hair and came on his face, it seemed Akechi was blushing even harder than before.

 


End file.
